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He puts her down and directs her toward the dining room. “Can’t wait to hear all about your day over dinner.”
“Okay.” She skips off, and I cover the carrots with water, setting them to boil on the stovetop. “What else needs doing?”
“That was it, baby. Thanks for your help.” Mom smiles at me, and I turn to make my escape. I don’t get very far, though, because Dad’s blocking my way now. But there’s no playful growl, and there will be no flying leap into his arms.
Instead, he’s staring at me like he’s trying to read my mind. “So, why so smiley?”
Like I can tell him.
His stupid rule about not dating team members is ridiculous.
Ugh. I can only imagine the fallout if he knew what I was up to with Carson. And there’s no bomb shelter in the backyard of this place. So, I play it safe and shrug.
“I guess I’m just happy. School’s going well. Life is good.”
“And your leg?”
I roll my eyes. “Is fine.”
“I notice you don’t have your cane. Again.”
“That’s because I don’t need it.”
“Nylah, the therapist said?—”
“I don’t care?—”
But our brewing argument gets cut off when Denzel walks in and asks, “What the hell happened with that hockey coach, Pop? That’s all anyone could talk about at school today. Did he get fired for kidnapping some girl?”
“How did you hear about that?” Dad crosses his arms, his eyebrows puckering into a V.
“Well, for one, I heard you and Mom talking about it last night, and second, one of the girls in my class, her older brother’s on the team, and he was saying how Coach Fisher lost his mind and took off with some kid.”
“Don’t be disrespectful of your elders. But yes… Coach Fisher has some emotional issues, and he acted?—”
“Like a total psycho,” I pitch in, still kind of reeling.
I heard about it at school this morning and couldn’t believe it. The first thing I wanted to do was find Carson and get the goss. He lives with Zander and would know all the deets, but I couldn’t exactly seek him out.
Man, it’s so weird to think we were flirting up a storm in Fledgling while poor Zander and his girlfriend were fighting to get their daughter back.
“Kids, I don’t want you talking about this in front of Amina. Can we shut this conversation down, please?” Mom bulges her eyes at us. “Yes, what happened was awful, but little Zoey is back safe with her family now, and life can return to normal. We need to focus on the positives.”
Denzel and I share a quick eye roll, then drop the discussion… and twenty minutes later, we’re sitting around the table, each taking our turns.
Unfortunately, my number came up last tonight, which is a pain in the ass, because it means when I whip through a very brief recount of how class is going well (true) and my roommate and I are getting closer (not sure if that’s actually true yet) and I’ve basically just been focusing on my studies and getting enough rest (totally not true), they don’t let that fly.
Instead, Dad quizzes me on every detail of my studies, and Mom wants to make sure I’m not missing my weekly PT appointment. She also won’t stop going on about how I’m managing the stairs at the dorm and why I should be using the elevator every single time.
My poor siblings have sat through these worries for over a year now. They must be so over it.
I share a quick glance with Denzel and Eli before giving Amina an apologetic smile and mouthing, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you saying that?” Mom points her fork at me, then looks at her youngest daughter.
My sister shrinks into her chair, and I quickly go in for a rescue.
“I’m just apologizing to her that she has to sit through this yet again. You guys are obsessed with my health, and it’s getting really boring!” My anger sizzles and flares. “You talk about me getting on with life and how we can’t discuss uncomfortable stuff, but you two are the worst. You just can’t let my accident go. Yes, I nearly died. Yes, it was horrible for everybody. But now I’m trying to move on, and you two are the ones who keep treating me like some kind of crippled invalid!”